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Stitching it back together again	By : TheGreatChickenbone Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 1001 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia nor do I make money off of this.

Chapter List
- 1-Stitching it back together again
- 1
Pain. Every muscle in his body ached. Every cut along the skin and then in deeper stung. His brain was numb with the dull pounding of his head. Leaning over like this was making his arms weaker as well, he could feel them trembling, wanting to escape out from under him. This way was the best way though for those nimble fingers that were moving over his back – pulling the thread through tender and bruised flesh. Thread pulled the skin tight, putting it back in place. Every time he felt the thread moving through skin he grunted, shifted slightly with another hand pressing against the other side of his back to keep him from moving too much – to keep him from getting hurt with the stitching. The needle in one very tender and awful gash caused him to cry out, gripping his hand into the sheet and this time the hand almost didn't manage to keep him in one place as the thread pulled through.

“You had a number done on you this time, mon ami.”

“You're doing a number on me...” the rough voice finally broke through his throat, but he was awfully thirsty. Obviously the Frenchman noticed this as he leaned away from the stitching just for a moment to hold up a bowl of water to his lips and tipped it back some. The liquid went down nicely and he swallowed it all down before the bowl was taken and put aside.

“I do not wish to hurt you, this is for your own good...” with that he felt the needle piercing skin and that oh-so tortures thread pulling through again in that spot that hurt the most. It didn't matter if the two were on sides or not at any time it felt like France was trying to torture him.

“That stings like a bitch!” His red eyes looked over his shoulder to see the other smiling back at him for the comment. Then there was more of that awful pressure against his wound. This thing was too big for him to stay still though and he was growing aggravated after every threading. Perhaps that was just how he was keeping his mind off of it though... off of that certain battle.

After a moment it seemed that those fingers stopped moving over the flesh. Was he done? Those red eyes looked over his shoulder again to see the blond leaning back. It was like an instant reaction and the albino crawled over him. Lips, tongue, teeth all found their way to the blond's shoulder. Kissing, licking, and nipping... only a small gasp was heard from the man beneath him. That was it. No protesting. No fighting.

That was probably because he understood. In fact, it was for sure because he understood. He knew exactly how it felt to be drug down in a battle. Sure, Prussia won it – there was many he won, that doesn't mean he wasn't close to death and beaten to the last point. That didn't mean that he could just ignore the horror of death all around him from those who failed to kill him first. France understood perfectly. Just... the albino might be a little rougher, that was all. The Prussian grunted as he leaned his head away from the blond, moving to fit perfectly between those legs. His fingers curled tightly into blond hair, lifting him up and pressing their lips roughly together before he slid into the man. Grunting, he slid in as deep as he could, feeling those nails threatening to tear into the stitches. His own muscles felt like they were tearing in two, stinging and burning as he moved his hips to thrust in and out of the blond. Perhaps it was just so he could feel the amount of pain France was feeling at the time. Those short, nicely taken care of nails dug into him to show the other was in pain, even when there was no sign anywhere else – could it be of the same magnitude?

There was serious doubt in that though because he did lift France up higher with his fingers twisting tight – the blond's face was contorted just slightly in a grimace as he moved his own hips with the thrust. This could be because he was actually trying to make it easier on himself than anything.

Letting France fall back against the bed again, Prussia leaned over him as he thrust in and out. He grunted several times and bit down on his lip. It had just started and he was so close already. It didn't matter though. He just wanted sleep and to stop thinking about the battle and to stop thinking about how bad his back was killing him and how he felt a fingernail catch into a string of thread that France had neglected to knot up.

Movements started to jerk faster, his toes curling into the sheets as he pushed himself up with them, further into France and harder and harder... not even caring how rough he was now. Being rewarded moans were good enough for him to keep going. There was no objection to how raw the feeling was or how hard he was pushing in and out or how fast. He could feel France's own toes curling at the skin of his lower back, pushing back onto him with each thrust. Legs were hooked up far onto his back too. The blond's legs were trembling against his sides, moving up higher to feel Prussia go in deeper.

The albino was so close though, so close... it had only just began and he was feeling the tightening inside him, wanting to give in to the amazing feeling. It became apparent that France wasn't going to mind though as he felt the other tightening around him, the body beneath him shaking so violently with release. A hiss escaped his lips as the string of thread was yanked so tight. His eyes squeezed shut as that exact feeling had been what caused him to let out a shaky moan and have his own release take him over.

Body slumping down against the other, red eyes opened to glance up at blue ones. He bit onto his lip with the sting of his muscles and the tightened thread. It seemed much like that was all done on purpose though, France using his vulnerable moment to tighten the stitching and tie it off. Prussia could only wonder how France had even managed to concentrate after that.

"Get some rest and build your strength, mon ami... the war's not over yet," and those torturous fingers combed their way through the pale hair, coaxing him to sleep.
- 1
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Stitching it back together again